


Forest path

by helia7



Category: Stand Still Stay Silent
Genre: Beast - Freeform, Mages, forest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-26 05:48:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12052593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helia7/pseuds/helia7
Summary: He had never been this far from the place he called home, but he was fine. He followed the lead of the forest and if there was one thing he learned to trust, it was the guidance of nature. He was not quite sure of the destination he was heading or the path he should walk. Maybe it didn’t really matter. He was in a forest.





	Forest path

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Synchronised Screaming for the prompt "Any Finnish Mage - The forest breathes. Listen. It answers."
> 
> Many thanks to Kiraly for proofreading.

He carefully relayed the tiny caterpillar - that was spanning on his pen - to a blueberry bush , then slid his notes in the inner pocket of the ragged coat he was wearing. It was time to continue his journey.

He had never been this far from the place he called home, but he was fine. He followed the lead of the forest and if there was one thing he learned to trust, it was the guidance of nature. He was not quite sure of the destination he was heading or the path he should walk. Maybe it didn’t really matter. He was in a forest.

The forest breathes. Listen. It answers.

Leaves rustled in the wind, whispering old stories; a lone parched birch gave out a whine. A croak of a raven echoed among the trees. The distant cry of terns uncovered the open water of a lake nearby.

He followed a narrow animal trail to the South. The sounds of his steps were muffled by the soft, wet grass, but it still stirred up a few slim bugs. They flew away indignantly.

He took a deep breath. The rich, green scent was full of vitality; the sweet rot of the bog promised a new, better life. Everything seemed calm and bright. And safe.

The path turned bypassing large, mossy rocks. A small flock of willow tits crossed the bushes before him; they jumped from branch to branch. For a moment their vivid chirping lifted his soul and made him smile.

Above his head fieldfares were replying each other in songs.

Suddenly they stopped.

The forest is alert. Listen. It warns.

A startled capercaillie took off with a thundering noise. Then the forest fell quiet.

It was a brooding silence that forebode danger.  Something was ahead of him; he could feel the dark presence in his bones.  A beast, probably. Or more.

This vexing stillness made his skin crawl.

His instincts commanded him to turn and leave immediately, to choose a different path, a safer route. But before he looked for another trail to follow, he stopped. He had come here to learn and discover, after all. He cleared his mind and gathered his strength to sharpen his senses.

He watched. Listened.  Smelled.

He saw darkness; an ill gloom lurked where the thick branches of pines blocked out the sun. He heard whispers and cries, the wails of death and eternal suffering. The wind carried the sourness of decay.

But there was something else in the air, something he could not just leave like this: magic.

He had not expect to find a mage here. Or anyone for that matter.

But he could see the signs now. Light fell on a couple of small bones on a rock; to a normal eye they could be the sad remains of a raptor’s prey. They weren’t. His coat got caught in a broken branch. It looked like an ordinary cut, but it wasn’t; echoes of soft spoken runes lingered on the bark.

The prospect of meeting another mage made him excited. And bold. Despite the danger, he kept going toward the darkness.

He unsheathed his knife, the forest was no longer calm, nor safe.

He heard grunts and stamps, then an agonizing howl filled the air. And when he reached a small clearing, he saw it: a fallen beast with bones and antlers growing in strange directions. Behind the beast stood a woman, knives in both hands, ash-blond hair floating in the wind.

She stared at him in confusion with gleaming blue eyes. But there was no time for formalities. Another beast dashed forward from the trees and more menacing shadows were moving, slowly surrounding them.

She turned and stabbed. She was agile and precise. And beautiful.

He jumped next to her and started to chant. He felt the magic flowing through his body and the air whirled around his knife as he cut through darkness.

The forest cares. Pray. It answers.

 

 


End file.
